Bathing with Bob
by slasher92
Summary: Someone has to help Frank bathe because he's too sick to do it alone...enter Bob Bryar! Enforced nudity!


Title: Bathing with Bob

Author: Slasher92

Rating: PG-13 (This is the first of its kind for me!)

Pairing: Frank/Bob

Word count: 1,620

Prompt: Someone has to help Frank bathe because he's too sick to do it alone. Enforced nudity! \o/ (any pairing)

Disclaimer: Sadly, none of the My Chem boys are actually my own. I just borrow them from time to time and make they do fun stuff. The concepts portrayed in the story are merely what I wish would happen and in no way reflect reality – well minus poor Frank's shitty immune system

Warnings: naked!Frank, sick!whiney!Frank, pissed!Bob, wet boys, language

Authors Notes: This is one of the multiple unclaimed YOBROTHATSSICK prompts that I saw and just had to write – hope you all enjoy! I picked Bob for the pairing simply because I couldn't imagine Frank asking anyone else in the band without it turning porn-y which really isn't what I wanted to do with this little story.

"Bob…Bob…Bob!" Frank's voice came through the phone and Bob had to fight not to roll his eyes at the whine. "I need your help…"

"Ask Jamia."

Frank was silent for a long moment before saying, "Bob, I can't…" and trailed off in a sad tone. Bob frowned; it looked like Frank had been unsuccessful at patching things up with her then.

"Why can't you ask Gerard or Mikey or, hell even, Ray?"

"Because it's embarrassing, I can't let the others know, and I know you won't make fun of me for it…much," Frank replied. Bob grunted in acceptance, if this was something he wouldn't turn to Gerard for, he knew he should do it. Otherwise Frank will never shut up.

"What do you need?"

"I need help bathing. I have this infection and I am too weak to move on my own and I feel so gross from this fever and shit. Please." Bob's eyes widened.

"You…can't bath yourself? How long have you been in bed?" He was almost afraid of the answer.

"Um…about a week, give or take? Dude it fucking sucks. I feel like I weight a ton, I think I have a fever, I keep getting chills, my nose is runny, and I have a killer cough."

"Have you been taking any medication?"

"Yeah, I keep some beside my bed normally so I was been taking whatever I have here. My mom comes over and brings me stuff, like water and food, but I can't keep it down."

"If your mom is there, why don't you ask her?"

"Because she's my mom, would you ask your mom you bath you?" Bob conceded the point with a faint smile.

"Okay, Iero, I'll be over there in about 10 minutes."

"Thanks Bob." With that, he hung up.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Iero, I'm coming in!" Bob called as he used the spare key that Frank left inside a dog statue to unlock the front door.

"In the bedroom," Frank called back. He made his way through the house and nearly tripped over Peppers.

"Hey where are the others?" he said as he reached down to rub Peppers' head. He heard Frank reply but his voice was muffled by something. Walking down the hall to Frank's room, he pushed to door open just in time to hear Frank vomit into a trash can. "Dude, why haven't you seen a doctor yet?"

Frank gagged slightly and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and looked up at Bob weakly, his face contorted into what Bob thinks is a scowl but can't be too sure. "Cause I can't move," was his simple reply. Once Bob was satisfied that Frank wasn't going to puke again, he slipped out of the bedroom and into the master bathroom. He figured since Frank was too weak to do this himself, a shower wasn't going to work, so bath it was. He pulled the tabs and waited until the tub was filled with warm water.

"Okay Frank, let's go. Time to clean you up, you good to move or you gunna lose it again?"

"I don't think there is much else for me to lose," Frank said with a laugh that spawned a coughing fit. Bob patted his back reassuringly as he waited for the fit to pass. Finally, wheezing slightly, Frank said, "Let's do this."

Together, the two slowly made their way to the bathroom. Once Frank was close enough to sit on something, anything, he collapsed. Thankfully, the nearest thing was the elaborate chair that Jamia had left behind when she had left. Frank's small frame was slumped over in the chair as Bob deftly slid off his pajama bottoms and boxers with a skill that suggested he had undressed too many limp people in the past. If he had felt better, Frank would have commented on this and made some smartass joke but currently all his willpower was being used to keep his body in the chair. "Ready?" Bob asked as he slid one shoulder under Frank's arm and lifted him into a standing position. After a few moments, they managed to awkwardly arrange Frank's limbs to where he could sink into the warm water.

"Fuck, feels so fucking good," Frank slurred slightly as his head rested on the wall. Bob shook his head, sat on the counter across from the tub, and waited for Frank's next request. He didn't wait long before Frank looked over at him. "Can you hand me the shampoo? I can't reach from here," he said before coughing roughly. Bob complied and silently handed the bottle to him. "Thanks," he mumbled as he flipped the cap off. He struggled for a while as he tried to squeeze the container enough to get some shampoo before Bob's hand took it from his weak grasp.

"Let me Iero. I don't particularly want to watch you struggle all afternoon with the damn thing." Frank sighed and his shoulders slumped slightly in defeat. Bob knew that Frank would have ended up killing himself in the effort before he ever admitted he wasn't well enough to do so by himself so he figured he would just save them both the time. Rubbing the product in his hands, Bob considered how best to wash Frank's deranged looking hair. Being immobile for a few days always wreaked havoc on his hair. Frank coughed, successfully bringing Bob back to reality and the current situation. "Turn sideways some so I can wash your hair," he said as Frank slowly maneuvered himself to where his back was leaning against Bob's pant leg. Grumbling, he repositioned Frank to where he was at more of an angle rather than soaking his jeans.

"This hurts," was all the warning Bob got before a weak, but wiggling, Frank Iero splashed water over the sides as he rearranged himself and crumpled back against Bob's jeans.

"Fucking hell Iero! What are you doing?" Bob said as he looked down at the man and then at his wet clothing.

"It hurt," Frank said in a sad voice. The same voice he used when someone was mad at him and he was looking to evade trouble. The same damn voice that Bob, no matter how many times it had been used with him, was still not immune to.

"Fine but fucking move over, I'm all wet now so I might as well join you in the damn tub, might make washing your hair easier this way at least." Frank moved as best he could as Bob stripped off the wet clothing, save for his boxers – he was so not getting naked in a bath with Frank – before sitting down behind him, his legs on either side of the smaller man. Frank sank back against his chest and let out a sigh as Bob began to wash his hair.

"Thanks Bob," he muttered, his chin sinking down against his own chest, the exhaustion finally kicking in once more. Bob simply made a non-committal noise in reply as his fingers worked though the tangles. The two stayed like that for nearly 10 minutes as he slowly worked out each knot and chaotic bundle of hair until it was falling softly against Frank's back once more.

"Okay, time to rinse you off," Bob said as he carefully maneuvered them both to where he could lean Frank under the gently flowing water. Frank murmured sleepily in protest at the movement until the warm water and Bob's strong hands started to rinse the shampoo away. Coughing slightly, he let out a low moan of approval as he felt the dirt and suds slide down his back and into the water. He always hated being sick, and hated not being able to fend for himself. After a few moments, Frank heard Bob say something about bed and he merely grunted in agreement. Now that he was clean again, he could feel the exhaustion hit him harder than before and all he wanted to do was sleep. "Come on," Bob said as he shut off the water and somehow managed to get them both out of the tub before wrapping a large towel around him.

Frank blinked. He swears it was just a blink! But when he opened his eyes again, he was in his bed with clean clothes with fresh sheets and it was dark out. Huh, so maybe it was a little more than a blink. Looking around, he noticed that Bob was in the chair beside his bed, eyes shut and head rested at an awkward angle. Frank wanted to let him sleep but his lungs decided that was the perfect time to rebel and make as much noise as possible. Bob cracked an eye and looked at Frank, who managed to choke out, "I'm fine. Sorry I woke you." Bob rolled his eyes and sat up while handing Frank a glass of water from somewhere. Frank took it willingly, downing half of it before the coughing stopped enough for him to ask, "Why are you still here?"

Bob looked at him and merely replied, "You couldn't bathe yourself Iero. Do you really think I was going to leave you alone here? Fat fucking chance. I made you some of that vegan soup crap you like, took care of Peppers, cleaned up after your lazy ass, and went to the store to get some medication and food that will actually help you. I am going to stay until you are better. End of conversation."

Frank grinned, his mouth spreading into a shit-eating smile. "Bob Bryar, look at you being all domesticated and shit." Bob just rolled his eyes. He would let that pass until Frank's ass was well enough to kick again.

The End!


End file.
